


80s Will Never Die

by kuukielkaa



Category: Star Wars
Genre: 70s, 70s music, 80s, 80s Music, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Ben is Hot, But I’m fluent in google translator, Dancing in living room, I still don’t know how it works, It’s my 1st reylo, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, Multi, Neighbors, Professor Ben Solo, Reylo - Freeform, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Teacher!Ben, and 1st Ao3, and 1st in English, english is not my native, kinda musical, let’s just assume I’m a virgin, title may change later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuukielkaa/pseuds/kuukielkaa
Summary: "So you are aware of the fact that you are playing music too loud," he said firmly to make sure she heard it."If the music is too loud, you are too old" she answered half-supercilious, half-feisty.At his age, with his profession he wasn't used to backtalk. He didn't know what to say. It seemed like a duel.The summer is steamy.Rey moves into a new flat.Across the street lives Ben.She dances a lot, and listens to music a little too loud.From his bedroom window, he has a perfect view of her living room.A bit of red wine, more cigarettes and a lot of balconies.It's parted to chapters, but it's really one shot.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 11
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As said before ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE, but I tried really hard so please somebody read it. 
> 
> Make sure you listen to songs 1st, if You don’t know them already, because it's important to fully understand plot.  
> Like girls who put pictures instead of writing what character wears.  
> I add lyrics at the end of every chapter anyway 'cause I know nobody really checks song while reading.  
> When I'm done with writing I'm gonna translate it properly. For now I can only say I'm sorry, but i can't wait to upload it.  
> Anyway. Hope you gonna like it. Even though it’s not really done yet.  
> Lots of love, S. 💕🌸

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading go listen to:  
> Belinda Carlisle - Heaven Is A Place On Earth (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-WP6POdTgY)  
> Belinda Carlisle - La Luna (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RergWOAFoc)

The man leaned his forearms against the rusty balcony railing. A half-smoked cigarette hung lazily in his right hand. He watched the turmoil in the street with interest, while looking at the windows of the apartment opposite his own. The balconies were separated by a maximum of twenty meters, he could easily see what was happening behind the glass without curtains. Two men circled between the entrance and the fourth floor room. It wasn't an extraordinary sight. He did not know what was happening in the opposite, dingy tenement house, but only in the last two months four different tenants lived there. Since he moved in five years earlier, more people have gone through that room than passed his class. His new neighbours seemed to be younger than he was. The black man standing next to the window must have been around ten years younger than he was. He wondered how soon he would see them bearing an orange sofa the same way they came. He dimmed the cigarette butt on the edge of the glass ashtray lying on the windowsill. He raised his head, releasing the last cloud of smoke before he walked inside his flat.

🍷🍷🍷

"... Yes, mom ... I know, mom ... Tomorrow ..." The girl sighed, shuffling across the room. She smiled half apologetically, half knowingly at the boys sitting in front of her. “Okay, mom ... Yes, see you later. I love you. Bye.” She hung up the phone, with a short "mom greets you", in return receiving "say hello from us". Finally she stopped in front of them, smiling so wide that almost all white teeth were visible.

“Can you believe? My own flat! By myself!” She placed palms on her cheeks. “I can't stop smiling. Sorry," she said, without reducing her smile even by a millimetre.

"I can't get over your optimism, it's a real shithole," the older one answered with a laugh.

“Poe!” His companion sighed indignantly.

“What?”

“No. Poe is right” Still with a smile. ”But the rent is unbelievably low and the owner gave a green light in terms of painting. I'm not surprised, with this condition of the walls, it can't be worse. Just give me two weeks.”

🍷🍷🍷

It was the middle of summer. The most steamy she’s remembered. Open balcony doors have long ceased to fulfill their function. Despite the late hour, it was just getting dark outside. She was extremely tired. Really. But her hands, still soiled with bottle green paint, had just put the last book on the shelf. She looked around the room, unable to believe her luck. She sank onto the couch standing perpendicular to the balcony. The interior was eclectic but consistent. The dark walls were brightened with orange additions. Everywhere were plants and antiques bought for a dollar or two. If heaven existed it had to be right here. With this in mind, she wiped her hands on the top of the worn jeans and chose the song. On her way to the kitchen she turned on the light. She poured a glass of red wine as a small celebration. The music was loud enough that she could hear it, dancing back to the living room. Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth? Ooh heaven is a place on Earth, she sang without missing a word. 

🍷🍷🍷

He couldn't believe it. Belinda Carlisle. He had not heard this song for years. It evoked bittersweet memories of childhood, when his mother sang it nonstop, dancing around the house. As he was born in the 80s, he did not experience it fully. After all, he had this weird sentiment for it. His earliest and best memories came from this period. He definitely preferred them over the 90s, when he was undergoing a teenage rebellion phase. He shook his head in embarrassment at the memory of making people call him Kylo for several years. Despite the moment of nostalgia, he felt annoyed. He rolled on the bed, half hanging off it, leaned out to look through the open balcony door. He wondered which of his neighbours decided to listen to music so loudly, at such an inhuman hour. He tried to ignore it. Truly. But it was unbelievably hot, his whole body was sticky with sweat, though he’s been showering less than two hours earlier. And he couldn't sleep without the noise, not mentioning with. Resignedly he stood up, passing the desk standing under the window. He didn't have to lean or look around. There were no curtains in the windows, the bulb lit up a dark night. He leaned against the railing, looking curiously at the girl in front of him. He wondered if the previous lodgers had decided to move out just after a week, or whether they were only employees of a moving company. He lit a cigarette, watching closely every move she made. A hand going from the outside of her thigh, through the waist to the neck, when she raised her hair in silent pleasure. He inhaled in smoke. She shifted the glass to the other hand, snapping her fingers to the rhythm. At first, a gentle swinging of the hips turned into something much more lively and joyful. She jumped to the beat, spun around her axis, her arms above her head, God only knowing how she hadn't spilled wine, dangerously splashing in her hand. Finally she opened her eyes, catching his gaze. She stopped immediately, surprised that someone was watching her. She didn't seem embarrassed, however. She went to the cabinet, turning the song down so that she could barely hear it herself. Bare feet turned toward cold tiles. She leaned across the railing in a twin gesture. They studied each other for a moment, absorbing every detail. She was younger than she seemed at first. She couldn’t be older than twenty-three. The fragile body was covered with a black top. He put a cigarette back to his mouth the second she raised glass to her lips. He looked at her face again. Her eyes wandered slowly from his broad shoulders, through the chest, muscular stomach, to the line of black pyjama pants. He was TALL. Her gaze returned to the face covered with maybe three days of stubble. This time she was blushing when she realized he had caught her. He was in his thirties. Maybe not thirty. Could be two years older or younger. He let out smoke. He waited another, last second, imbibing that moment before he spoke. There was something intriguing and fresh about it.

"So you are aware of the fact that you are playing music too loud," he said firmly to make sure she heard it.

"If the music is too loud, you are too old" she answered half-supercilious, half-feisty.

At his age, with his profession he wasn't used to backtalk. He didn't know what to say. It seemed like a duel.

"‘La Luna’ would be more appropriate" he said, without adding anything else.

She tilted her head, now really fascinated, watching him come back inside, closing the door behind him. She should go to sleep as well if she didn't want to oversleep the morning shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La Luna Lyrics  
> I remember when I met you  
> All the stars were hanging in mid-air  
> In these moments nothing mattered  
> But the way you caught me in your stare  
> We were walking we were talking  
> We were laughing about the state of our lives  
> How our fates brought us together  
> As the moon was rising in your eyes  
> On and on the night was falling  
> Deep down inside us  
> On and on a light was shining right through  
> Ah La Luna La Luna  
> The night that we fell under the spell of the moon  
> Ah La Luna La Luna  
> The light that will bring me back to you  
> The light of La Luna  
> In the hotels, in the cafes  
> All the world was made with romance  
> In the harbor moonlit water  
> All the ships were swaying in a dance  
> Then you held me and you kissed me  
> And I knew I had to be with you  
> You didn't ask me you just took me  
> To the tiny bed in your tiny room  
> On and on the band was playing  
> A song of surrender  
> On and on the sun would soon break through  
> Now I walk along the streets of Marseilles  
> The winter sky is cold and gray  
> And I don't know why I left you that day  
> And I don't know where you are


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading go listen to:  
> Blondie - Maria (www.youtube.com/watch?v=VoOG7LEyUJ0)

After two weeks, she was slowly beginning to understand why the rent was so low. The couple living below her were constantly arguing. But it was not the type of star-crossed lovers, full of temperament, but a classic one, tired of life and alcohol. She learned a substantial amount of new words from them, but none were suitable for use. At the time of next never-ending dispute she could not stand it. Slamming the door, she left the apartment. 

🍷🍷🍷

There was nothing on 5th Avenue. Absolutely nothing. No school. Or a bookstore. Grocery store. Not even a coffee house. Instead, a vinyl store was pressed between two high buildings. She discovered it by accident, when one day she got lost on her way to a job interview. She has been coming there regularly since then. It smelled of dust, but in a pleasant way. The warm color of the walls made people feel comfortable when on a rainy day they listened to records on a turntable standing against the wall. There was something soothing about it. An older man who was both the owner and seller always kept for her valuable ones so that she could see them before the others did. She greeted, immediately turning into a familiar alley. Fingers moved the next packages quickly but meticulously. On the other side of the shelf a familiar low voice reached her.   
  


"What will trouble me this time?"

In response, she lifted the cover. 

"'L.A. Woman'. Nice. But The Doors? Not 80s anymore?" She rolled her eyes at his comment. 

"It's not about what year it was recorded, but the vibe it gives. It's like you would acknowledge 'Bleach' while undermining 'Nevermind', although they are only two years apart" 

Passing him, she walked to the counter, taking her steps lightly. She could heard deaf footsteps behind her, but didn't turn around. 

"It's not like I don't accept The Doors or Nirvana" Elbow leaned on the counter, looking at her profile. "It just doesn't match with what you've played so far. A bit old for you" 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I am already downloading Ariana Grande or Drake. More suited to my age" She rolled her eyes. She couldn't count the number of times she'd heard similar remarks. 

"God, please, don't. You know that's not what meant" 

"You have a problem with your words" She paid the old man, waiting for the change. 

"I wouldn't say so. In fact, I teach English literature. Words are my job" 

"Pretty interesting for someone who can't express himself. Thanks Luke, that's all for today” She smiled and then left the place. 

He stared at the closed door for a moment longer, still stunned. 

"The little one is feisty, huh?" The man looked as if he wanted to say something else but gave up. 

🍷🍷🍷

She sat on the floor in front of the doorway, putting on sports shoes. She didn't care how hot the summer was. Even in the city. She was raised in a desert climate for God's sake. She ran seven kilometers every morning. She wasn't going to change her habits. Besides, at this hour the air was still crisp and the concrete was not heated. She looked at the makeshift drapery that hung there much longer than it was intended to. It didn't even reach half the window. As she left, she promised herself that she would buy something decent on her way back. It wasn't the first time Rey didn't do what she's planned. 

🍷🍷🍷

Rey was sitting on the couch, scrolling through the list of movies on the TV screen. Two episodes have passed since the last time she changed her position. Without turning her head, she spoke to her friend. 

"Finn, can you just stop? You're just making an idiot of yourself" 

Her friend was kneeling by the windowsill, hiding behind the fern, only putting the top of his head, watching the apartment opposite. He was on a private mission. 

"Are you kidding me?" He turned in shock. "After what you've told me? It was like in a movie. I want to see if he is as hot as you said he was" 

"Calm down. It was a one-time interaction" She didn't share his excitement. 

Even if there was something addictive about it, it was just a moment. Meet cute, as they say in the movies. And that was for Rey. Moment. She wasn't going to run, pretending as if she didn't plan it, for a neighborly glass of sugar. It wasn't her style. The moment she told that story to her friends, it was a thing of the past. Although last week she listened to 'La Luna' more than she should. 

"Your interaction has entered the room" 

"The Umbrella Academy?" She remained unmoved. 

"Seriously girl. You can watch Netflix at any time. You don't want to miss _that"_

That ... was interesting. She took a deep breath, restoring herself to order. 

"Derry Girls?" Each of them had a one-sided conversation. 

"Your interaction just does pushups" 

A second later she knelt beside him, peeking from behind a pot of aloe. No one could blame her. Aat age of twenty, the body is made in 90% of hormones and 10% of water. She did not know how long they stayed in this position without saying a word. 

Brunet sat on the floor, hands resting on his knees, panting heavily. He reached for the bottle of water standing next to his bed. His eyes involuntarily wandered to her window. 

She was faster, immediately putting her back to the radiator. 

"Do you think he saw us? "He asked. 

"With your reflexes? He saw you for sure" 

They looked at each other seriously, then burst out laughing.  


🍷🍷🍷

After a long day at work, she poured a little wine into the cup without bothering to find a glass. She took the old pillow and threw it into the corner of the balcony, laying on it comfortably. She closed her eyes, relaxing her muscles. The sound of the door opening woke her from trance. She looked at the man in front of her for a moment. 

"Do you use this balcony for a purpose other than smoking?" He shook his head. "You smoke a lot" 

"I practice a lot too. I keep balance. But you probably know that. How's your friend doing?" 

"Great" She didn't let him flummox her. After a while she added. "I'm Rey" 

"Kylo" He didn't know why he introduced himself by that name. Maybe he wanted to be cool. There is nothing cool about 'Ben'. Maybe he felt like he was nineteen again. 

"No music this time?" He added. 

"Any special wishes?" 

"Blondie" She looked at him not understanding "Maria. It fits you" 

After which, as usual, without a word of farewell he returned to the apartment, however, leaving the door open this time. From the first notes she did not refrain from dancing. She never did that. Even if she could feel his eyes on her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maria Lyrics  
> She moves like she don't care  
> Smooth as silk, cool as air  
> Ooh it makes you wanna cry  
> She doesn't know your name  
> And your heart beats like a subway train  
> Ooh it makes you wanna die  
> Ooh, don't you wanna take her?  
> Ooh, wanna make her all your own?  
> Maria, you've gotta see her  
> Go insane and out of your mind  
> Latina, Ave Maria  
> A million and one candle lights  
> I've seen this thing before  
> In my best friend and the boy next door  
> Fool for love and fool on fire  
> Won't come in from the rain  
> She's oceans running down the drain  
> Blue as ice and desire  
> Don't you wanna make her?  
> Ooh, don't you wanna take her home?  
> Ooh, don't you wanna break her?  
> Ooh, don't you wanna take her home?  
> She walks like she don't care  
> You wanna take her everywhere  
> Ooh, it makes you wanna cry  
> She's like a millionaire  
> Walkin' on imported air  
> Ooh, it makes you wanna die


	3. Chapter 3

She kept changing her position in the wet sheets unable to sleep. It was barely dawn outside. She looked at her watch. She had an hour to the alarm clock. She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway. She's been trying for almost an hour now. She stood up, flipping things over in search of shorts. She might as well spend this time productively. She stretched out in the apartment and was standing on the sidewalk outside the building several minutes later. A man dressed in black sweat pants and a T-shirt of the same color was crossing the street. He stopped mid-step when he noticed her. He changed direction and approached her.

“Hi.”

“Morning. Why so early?”

“I am going to run. And you?” He pointed to her outfit “Yoga?”

"With all due respect, but I run every morning," she replied, a little snippy.

“Maybe I don't run every day, but most of the week and I haven't seen you once.”

"I normally start at six, but I couldn't sleep." They stood in awkward silence before she asked. “So how many do you run?”

“Five kilometers.”

"Seven," she replied with a mawkish smile, despite everything being sincerely pleased with herself.

“But it's a warm-up for me. Then I practice an hour at home.”

“Poseur.” In response he raised a corner of his mouth.

"That makes two of us." after a pause he added “Since we’re here, maybe we'll run together?”

"Yeeeaaa," she stretched the syllables thoughtfully. “That sounds fine. Sounds like a plan.”

They’ve chosen the route and set off at a calm pace.

“We could run together more often.”

“I won't get up. Forget it. But you’re more than welcome at six.”

“Too late. I won't be able to get to work on time.”

"What a bad luck," she sighed theatrically. “And I thought we would be running buddies.”

“Running buddies? I was sure we were balcony buddies. Besides, there's such a thing as compromise, you know? For me half an hour later, for you half an hour earlier.”

“Sounds tempting, but I see no reason to get up half an hour earlier, since I don't have to.”

“Because it’s better to run with somebody than just yourself? She shook her head, slightly pursing lips in a crooked smile, as a sign that this is not enough. "Because you can raise the bar instead of following the easy line?"

“And what does that supposed to mean?” She stopped abruptly.

If endless patronizing remarks were his way of making friends, she was certain that his circle of friends wasn't staggering.

“I run a shorter distance, so I don't have to distribute my strength over the next two kilometers. I have longer legs. And I'm a guy. Obviously I'll run faster. I think it would speed up your pace and you would have a better time.”

"I have a good time," she said indignantly.

“I'll run five today. We'll see who runs faster.”

“And strength endurance?” Her eyebrow shot up. She breathed a little shallower, but he did too. “ So what if you run faster if I keep exercising and you fall on the couch. This does not sound like a good determinant.”

“I could do it.”

“How do I know?” Silence answered him. They started running again. “You can come at my place when we finish running and find out.”

“How can I know you won't hurt me? You might as well lock me up, rape me, kill me. There are many options. There are many creeps.”

“Then at your place.”

“You do realize that it works the same way, right?”

"If I wanted to hurt you, I might as well do it now,"

She looked at him, dumbfounded. In fact, he was right. He was much taller. And stronger. And definitely fast. At that time of day not a single passerby passed them. He must have seen the whole range of emotions running through her face because he jokingly added.

“Relax. I won't hurt you.”

“It doesn't solve your problem.”

“Okay, we'll open the balcony and you will practice in your living room and I will in my bedroom.”

"I can't believe I'm saying that, but how silly it sounds, at the same time it sounds reasonable."

They continued their run in silence. Every now and then, she raised her head, looking at him. Strands of long hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was focused, staring at the road ahead. Still, he raised the corner of his mouth as if he was perfectly aware that she was watching him.

🍷🍷🍷 

Less than half an hour later the morning was bright and they were standing on their balconies.

“How do I know that you will not be exercising any longer, or harder just to prove that I can't do it?”

“You have some serious trusting issues, you know?” he said half amused. “I said I exercise for an hour. You can turn on the countdown timer, that's how long my routine lasts.”

“Let it be.”

“Wait a second.”

After these words he disappeared into the apartment. He returned with a white board and marker. He sat in the doorway. Sunlight lit his face as he began to write.

"I won't be screaming, so people could hear me down the street," he explained.

“Where did you get it from?”

“I'm a lecturer. I have a PhD. I am not legally obliged or something?”

“Poseur."

He set the board on his desk, front to window glass, so that she could study it carefully. His writing was neat and slightly bent. Elegant. He backed deeper toward the room to have more space.

“Go get some water.”

"I don't need it," he shook his head but said nothing. He gave her a chance to prove her point.

She tried. She really tried. She was dragging this moment forever. With every pump and every squat. But the moment had come. She had to acknowledge his predominance.

“Water break!” she yelled, running towards the kitchen.

A loud laugh answered her. She wasn't offended though.

🍷🍷🍷 

She didn't know what made her do what she just did. She got carried away. She just wanted it. She tried to justify herself in her head as she descended the staircase. She acted like a stupid teenager. She was just running for her neighborly glass of sugar. When she stepped out the building, he was standing on his side of the street.

“Half an hour earlier?” He asked amused.

“Half hour later?”

“I overslept.”

“I couldn't sleep.”

They knew. They both knew.

“Ladies first.”


	4. Chapter 4

They were running together every day except Mondays and Thursdays, which were not his days to exercise. Sometimes on their way back, they would go to the bakery at the corner of the street. It wasn't a week later, when they turned two apartments into one, exercising in her living room. They talked a lot. They got to know each other slowly. They got into a routine.

She was angry. She was freezing. She was soaked to the skin. She was returning from the afternoon shift when a storm caught her. Under normal circumstances, she would even accept it gratefully. It hasn't rained for several days. The air was dry. It was nearly impossible to breath. Her attitude would, however, be more favorable if the wall of rain found her at home.

She shuffled her legs, dreaming of a warm bath as she stood in front of the apartment. Next to the door, a white board, tied with a red bow, stood against a dirty wall. She frowned in surprise. She knew immediately who left it. She picked it up and two markers rolled along the corridor. She took them as well and entered the house, straight away heading to the living room window. He was sitting at the desk typing something on the laptop. He waved to her and then returned to work.

‘Why?’ She scrawled quickly. Her writing was sloppy, much more careless compared to his.

He read the note and took his board.

‘You don't want to give me your number, and if I want to leave you a message? How will you leave me one?’

When he was sure she had read it, he erased the text and began to write again.

‘Change your clothes. You're all wet, you'll be sick.’

She rolled her eyes.

‘Yes daddy, I will.’

‘I'm not that old.’

‘I know. That’s not what I meant’

She winked at him, and stood up going to the bathroom. Suddenly her day wasn't so bad.

🍷🍷🍷

Returning from the city center, she turned the key in the lock nervously. She found a new song and wanted to show it to him as soon as possible. They've been leaving messages all the time since she got the board. A song to hear. The film, which was supposed to be on TV in the evening. Quote out of context. As soon as she crossed the threshold of the apartment, she stopped in a half step, forgetting about the song.

“What the…”

Apparently, the screams of the neighbors were not the only reason for low rent. Her brand-new, almost freshly painted walls were covered with huge damp patches. She went to the next room. There was a puddle of water in the bedroom. Bed, bedding, desk. Everything was flooded. She ran out of the apartment without even closing it behind her. Ten seconds later, she pounded on Mrs. Clark's door. Nobody answered. Nervous, she called the building administrator.

A stunned neighbor found them sitting on the stairs. The overseer arrived with spare keys almost an hour earlier. The old woman forgot to turn off the tap in the kitchen. At least she was decent enough to offer covering renovation costs.

🍷🍷🍷

By midday she managed to sort all things. She was glad that she left the laptop and charger in the living room as she left. She preferred not to think what would happen if she came home later... She collected a whole box of items to throw away. Finn and Poe helped her move and organize all the furniture in one pile. She was really grateful to them. Even if she wanted to, she didn't have enough strength to move some of them. The next day, a repair team hired by the supervisor was to work from the morning. She packed clothes and accessories needed for the night. She looked around the room to see if everything was right. She left the right paint cans in the right rooms. She was wondering for a while, then went to the window.

“Wait a moment.”

‘A neighbor flooded my flat. I’m staying at friends’ flat. Don't wait for me tomorrow.’ After a moment's hesitation she added humorous. ‘And try not to miss.’

Finn looked at her in surprise, as she set the board on the windowsill.

“What is going on?”

"Message for Kylo." She knew she will have to explain herself, but she had no strength for it yet.

“What?! Why?”

“Later,” then she added pained “Please.”

Finn was good-natured, so he decided to let it go, though curiosity burst him. . Except for two or three one night stands, Rey didn't seem to be interested. Every now and then she needed to release the tension, but none of them stayed longer than that proverbial night. She just didn’t do relationships or any long-term acquaintanceships.

“Why don't you just text him?” Poe was pragmatic by nature.

“I do not have the number.”

“Why?”

"It's our thing." He raised his eyebrows.

“What? Once people lived without cellphones.”

"Your 80s will be the death you someday," he laughed, taking her bag.

The men were already at the door. She took the keys and followed them.

🍷🍷🍷

Poe and Finn - the gentlemen they were – offered her the couch. They unfolded it and made he bed when she was taking a shower. And so they stayed with her. Finn was already sitting on her bed, and Poe was leaning over the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. She sank down on the sofa next to her friend. She crossed her legs. Poe handed her a cup of cocoa.

“So…”

“So.”

“Ready?”

She nodded.

“What the hell was that?!” She didn't expect such an outburst after such a quiet introduction.

“Finn...”

“Okay. I’m sorry. Rey. My Rey of sunshine. You are peanut to my jelly. You know that right?” She nodded again.

“Is there something you want to share with the class?” He was calmer this time. Too calm.

“No, not really.”

“Maybe why you leave messages to your neighbor? Who doesn't even live in your building? Your one-time interaction?”

"Well ... we could have more than just one.”

Saying this, she shut her eyes, as if she knew what was coming soon.

When she finished telling the story of the past month, not omitting any detail, no meeting, it was much after one in the morning. All three lay under the covers, Finn on her right, Poe on the left. There was an overwhelming silence for a moment. Everyone needed a moment to process the words that were spoken. The room was lit only by the dim light of a small lamp.

"So he finds you attractive," the younger man's tone was half-stating, half-questioning.

“I did not say that.”

“You said he played you ‘Maria’.”

“No. He told me to play it.”

“Whatever. He made it clear. You attract him. Like sexually tempting.

"I don't want to seem vain or something, but he wasn't the first one suggesting me he wanted to sleep with me."

“Yes, but I'll give you one ... No! I Two hundred bucks that the predecessors were not so subtle. I dare even say that they were coarse."

"Hey babe," Poe said in a low tone, which all three laughed at. “Nice ass.”

“Something like that.”

“See ... And that’s how you know it’s a man. M A N, not a boy. Class.”

"I don't know if it's his age, but there is something intriguing about him. In no way, no aspect you can compare him to college boys. I guess it's just a proper upbringing.

“C L A S S.”

"But the effect is the same," she hinted.

“I don't know about you, but I would prefer a hot guy to play me a song about femme fatale, suggesting, quote that he wants to take me, go insane and out of his mind, because of me, saying the song suits me, than once again listen to Greg's cheap pick up lines. It's not a sophisticated allusion that he can’t stop thinking about you.

“It was me who played the song.”

“Really? That’s all you got out of it?”

"Let's not forget the good old sarcasm." Poe said, turning a deaf ear to her comment. “So you see each other every day?”

"More or less, intermittently," she nodded, sighing.

"And he’s at your place at least five times a week?"

“Mhm.”

“And sometimes he makes breakfast for you?”

“But it's not like he slept over!”

“Sure, kiddo.” After a while he added “So you're sure he's not your boyfriend?”

“You know I never had a boyfriend. I don't do boyfriends.”

“I didn't either.” The elder's tender look moved from her to boy sleeping next to her. “There always got to be that first time.”

All three fell asleep in the living room, one cuddled up with another.


	5. Chapter 5

On Friday, Rey returned to her apartment. She scrawled quickly on the board, "Honey, I'm home!", adding "Any plans for the evening?", then went to put on the laundry. She began to arrange objects in their previous places and move every furniture she had enough strength to push. Several hours passed, and she wasn't even half way there, when she went out onto the balcony to hang up her clothes. She knew it would be an unbelievably long day. At least the weather was good for home cleaning. Closing the balcony, she saw a girl standing by the window of the apartment opposite. She was short, even shorter than her.

She had a pretty, round face. Something warm was emanating from her. So why did she feel ice flowing through her veins? The brunette raised her hand, waving to her. She did the same absently. She didn't know what was going on. Of course he has a girlfriend. Why wouldn't he have? He was intelligent. And handsome. Funny. Athletic. Well educated and kind. In a weird way charismatic. The whole package. It was obvious. She didn't know what she was thinking. In fact, she wasn't counting on anything. Some strange friendship developed between them. It wasn't what she had with Finn and Poe. At the same time, there was nothing romantic about it. She wasn't lying when she said she didn’t do boyfriends. She felt no thrill at the thought of meeting him. He had time? Wonderful. He didn’t? She entertainment herself. She wasn’t imagining his kisses before going to bed. And she didn't dream about him at night. Just spending time with him came so naturally. Just like that, she was hoping for something exclusive. Even if it was supposed to be good contact with the neighbor. A moment later, Kylo entered the room. The girl turned to him and said something, then pointed at something in her apartment. Her eyes went in the direction she pointed. The blood drained from her face. She wanted to erase the message, but she knew it would make no sense. It was too late. She turned her head in horror. Fear turned into confusion when she saw his whiteboard.

"We have dinner. You coming? " He couldn’t be serious.

How awkward was that? She wrote back quickly. "I do not want to impose myself." It seemed to her the most decent, neutral form of escape. The escape was less decent but more appropriate. She disappeared deep into the apartment, trying to distract herself by restoring it to order. Two hours later the sun began to set, and she was not a bit closer to the end.

🍷🍷🍷

“That was weird. Why did she run away?” Rose raised her head, looking at him in surprise.

"I have no idea," he answered frankly surprised.

It was true that she had never been at his place, but they’ve been seeing each other for so long and so often that he didn’t suppose, that an ordinary dinner would cross any invisible barriers.

"So ... honey?"

“Calm down. We could or could not eavesdrop on our neighbors. It's such an inside joke.”

They returned to the living room, taking the necessary books and papers from the desk. They set things down on the table above which the red-haired man was leaning over.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Ben has a young, hot neighbor who calls him honey.”

"An inside joke," he groaned.

“You totally should invite her to dinner” She took the place on the carpet, while the dark-haired man sat down on the sofa next to Hux.

“I did.”

“She didn't seem convinced. What is the deal with these boards anyway?”

"It's our thing," Hux and Rose looked at each other.

“Do you two have something that is not an inside joke?” Armitage sneered.

"You should invite her properly," she said.

“Give it a rest.”

“If you don't go I will.”

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“Watch me,” saying that, she began to get up from her knees.

“Wait!” He said too quickly and too nervously. They looked at him flabbergasted.

“There is such a small thing. Not necessarily… Like... “ He didn't know how to put it into words so that it wouldn’t sound as pathetic as it really was. Maybe he actually had a problem with words. “She doesn't know my name.”

“What? Why?”

“Have you seen her? “ He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“So on whose behalf should I invite her?” He was in two minds, looking for any way out of this situation. He found none.

"Kylo," he moaned dramatically, falling back, covering his eyes with his hand.

He expected mockery, but not Rose rolling on the floor, unable to gasp.

"Please, don't tell me that the rebel Ben has come back," Hux, only miraculously refrained from doing exactly same thing.

“Now we have to meet her. We'll finish it and I’ll go.” She began to circle sentences as if faster.

🍷🍷🍷

Rey opened the door wide, opening her eyes even wider.

“Hi. I'm Rose” The girl was smiling broadly and sincerely.

"Rey," she answered uncertainly. She didn't let her inside. They just stood in the door.

“We could be the R team. Like in Pokémon.” After awkward silence, she added. “Anyway, I came to take you to dinner.”

"Yes ... it's probably not the best idea." Saying this, she started to closing the door slowly.

“No! Wait.”

“Listen, that's very kind of you, but I still have a lot to do here...”

"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow ...? Kylo has already counted you while cooking. It would be a shame to waste the food...” She stretched a few sounds. There was genuine hope in her voice.

“But...”

“You asked if he was doing something tonight. That’s what he’s doing. And waiting for us. He believes in my power. I can’t blame him. Please do not disappoint his faith in me.”

"I'll just take the phone," she finally sighed, giving up.

She had a feeling that she wouldn't get rid of her so easily anyway. There was some persistence in her. A cheerful squeal answered her.

🍷🍷🍷

Going down the staircase, walking across the street and going up the next stairs, Rose kept talking. It didn't matter, because three-quarters of the stimuli and information didn't reach her. She barely registered when they changed buildings. She wondered how she could agree to all of that. She had a temporary eclipse. She had not seen him for a few days and could resist, even if it meant an hour in torment. How pathetic was she? Like a teenager, supposedly going out for a walk just at the time when the boy she likes returns from practice? Or maybe a woman in her forties wearing a pre-divorce dress telling boy at the bar that she was celebrating her thirtieth birthday? It seemed to her, that she was currently setting new standards on this scale. Rose was saying something about work when the door opened. She kept talking even inside.

"So you met Rose," tone of his voice was apologetically.

She nodded, taking off her shoes.

His apartment was a mirror image of hers. A long corridor, on the left leading to the kitchen, on the right to the bathroom, opposite which was the bedroom. The only difference was the hallway. She hadn’t any, entering the living room straight from the entrance. And balconies in other rooms. Still, she preferred to wait for him to direct her in the right room. Where she had free space for dancing and exercising, he had a large table, connecting the living room with the dining room. Another guest was already at the table. It threw her off. She didn’t expect anyone else.

“And this is her husband, Hux.”

"Husband ..." She repeated unconsciously.

She let out the air, which she unwittingly held back, relaxing. The man was young, around their age. His face was long and handsome. But there was no cheerfulness, his wife had. Now she was quite glad and took her place. The table was already set. She could finally focus enough to look at the room. Naturally, the interior was elegant and dignified. In the style of mid-century. Just for the professor. Wooden showcases and floor-to-ceiling shelves covered with books. A lot of brown and pastel colors. Countless amount of flowers, which, unlike those of hers, were specimens not tolerating well lack of water. Patterned rug, somewhat similar to hers.

“What are we eating?”

"How much will I disappoint you, if I say the same pasta as two weeks ago? When we were sitting under the Malcolms’ window?”

“Honey, I'm home!” She laughed.

They both felt awkward under the gaze of the couple sitting at the table.

“I'll go check the food. It should be ready by now.”

He returned carrying a large pot, which he placed on the pad. Of course. He sat on the other side of the table. At first, they sat in silence, just eating. She decided to speak up.

“So you know Kylo for a long time?“ They both snorted.

She didn't know what he meant, when he gave them murderous glances. She felt stupid. Did she say something wrong?

“We work together. It will be five or six years. Rose became our assistant a year later.”

“And you? What do you do?”

She felt everyone's eyes focus on her. She scanned each of them. She started high school six years ago. She didn't want to look like a kid. So she decide on half-truth.

“I work in workshop.”

“Wow.”

“Yes, I know this is quite unusual. How can a girl rummage in the engine? I hear it often.”

“Not at all. It sounds exactly like you.” She smiled warmly at him.

“What's up with these clothes?”

“Armie!” Rose admonished him outraged.

“No, that’s okay. I hear that often as well,” she laughed. “The eighties are my thing. Music, clothes, way of life. I'd better fit in there. I identify with it.”

“Were you even born in eighties?”

“Hux...” This time dark-haired man interjected sharply.

“No, where were you when good manners were taught?“ The other two laughed.

"Touché," he smiled at her, genuinely this time. With appreciation.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about previous decades, cars and work. It was loosely and homey. The empty plates stood in front of them them for a long time, before Ben finally got up, taking them to the sink. It was late, so Rey stood up right after him, with the intention of leaving. She patted all pockets, making sure she felt all the bulges in the places where she had hidden things. She circled the table, halfway to the exit, when the man returned, carrying a wine glass in one hand, and holding two rock glasses in the other.

“You're right. The couch is much more comfortable,” the evening apparently was not over yet.

He set the dishes on the dresser, pulling out red wine and whiskey from a cabinet standing by the wall. He gave her a glass, handed another to Hux, who sat in the armchair, taking a sip himself from the last one.

“Why didn't I get the wine?” The older girl protested.

“Did you say you want?”

“Rey didn't say.”

“Rey likes wine” The girl preferred not to say that she still was at the age when she wasn’t legally allowed to drink.

“Me too!”

“Who's driving you two home?” The suffering sigh was the answer itself.

Apparently, the idea with alcohol was hit, because they didn’t run out of the topics, for a long time they were teasing, sinking more and more in furniture. Finally the couple got up saying they were supposed to be home at eight o'clock. Rey took out the phone. Six past ten p.m. After the third glass she was slowly getting drowsy. This time it was definitely time to come back. The couple said their goodbyes and left before she put on her shoes. She left, but he didn't close the door behind her, standing in the doorway.

“I'm sorry for Hux... He is...”

“Honest? No problem. Really. Not once did I feel offended. I know he didn't do it to make me feel bad. I actually had a great time.”

“And you didn't want to come.”

“I regret! Happy? It’s what you wanted to hear? I regret!” In a theatrical gesture, she put her hand on her chest, staggering.

“You're infantile.”

“Thank you.”

He stood a moment longer, as if hesitating on something. But he didn't drink that much. He decided to make it simple.

“Good night.”

“Good night,” she smiled, heading back home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading go, listen to:  
> Bon Jovi - Runaway (www.youtube.com/watch?v=s86K-p089R8)

The night rain cooled her down a bit, but she stood in front of the apartment door, still slightly intoxicated. She began to ransack the pockets to find a key. Once again. And another one. But it wasn’t not in any of the four pockets. She repeated the way she came home, back and forth three times. No sign. She only got soaked. Finally she recalled fragments of memories. Rose outside her apartment door. She, unplugging the phone from the charger. Keys in a bowl in the hallway she never reached for. 

Peeved, she kicked in the door. She put her fingers to her temples, thinking frantically. Now she was completely sober. She dialed the building administrator's number. One, two three times. The only thing she heard was that the person she has called is currently unavailable.

"Easy, Rey," she mumbled like a mantra.

Locksmith. The idea went away as soon as it appeared. Despite everything, she checked the internet if any madman had decided to work at eleven p.m. on Friday. Unfortunately, there was no insanity, just when it was needed the most. She walked nervously along the corridor, tapping her phone screen with her thumb. She knew the chances were slim, but she tried nevertheless.

“What's up, Rey of sunshine?” Finn's voice was cheerful. As if slightly drunk.

“I slammed the keys in the apartment.”

“Oh...”

“What are the odds, that you’ve canceled the trip?”

“We're not coming back until tomorrow evening. But you can take spare key and spend the night at our place.”

“I left key in the apartment too.”

“Yes. Right. I should now say about some key magically hidden under the doormat or in the flower pot that stands in the corner of the corridor, but you would know about it if it existed. I'm sorry.”

“I know. All right. Thanks.”

“You sure, you can handle it?”

“When couldn’t I?” She smiled falsely, though he couldn't see it, before she hung up.

Resigned, she put the phone in the back pocket of jeans. She sat on the dusty floor. She took out her phone again. She put her hands on her knees, nervously turning the device over in her hands. She knew perfectly well that she had no more numbers to call. Variants have become more and more limited. She considered the last of them outrageously long. Finally she stood up, leaving into a rainy night.

🍷🍷🍷

She raised her arm and lowered it good three times. She hesitated to the very end, trying to come up with some possibility she missed in her nerves. The fourth time the hand touched the cold wood. A dull sound echoed off the walls of an empty corridor. She knocked again. He stood in the doorway a moment later, barefoot, dressed in his usual sleeping attire. Black pajama pants. He put his hand on the doorframe above his head. He could barely fit. In other circumstances, she would probably have devoted a second to this, but now something else worried her.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, not at all. Did you forget something?” The hoarse voice implied something else.

“In fact, yeah, the keys.”

“They stayed in the living room?”

"Hallway," she moaned a bit apathetically.

"They had a key ring or-" He started looking around.

"In my hallway," she stopped him in mid-sentence.

"Oh... Come inside," he led her into the room she had left less than two hours earlier.

“Did you call the locksmith?”

“You are so smart. I am not surprised that you lecture at the university. Why didn't I come up with this? I'm already calling for the relief force. On Friday just before midnight,” she replied flat.

“Yes… You are right. Administrator?”

“He doesn't answer. I thought I would stay with friends, but they took a weekend getaway trip and-”

“Stay here.” 

This was the time for false modesty and disbelief. However, she did not intend to hide that it was exactly what she hoped for, when she came to him. She did not expect, however, that he would agree so easily. She didn’t even finish the first part of her monologue. The argumentative part was not allowed to speak at all.

“Really?”

“Really. Just give me a moment to unfold the sofa. You can use the bathroom during this time. I'll give you something to sleep in a moment.”

Now he was definitively awaken. He went to the bedroom. He didn't have to rummage in the dresser. Everything was thoroughly organized. He took a shirt and a pair of pants. She was waiting for him in front of the bathroom. When he handed her the clothes, she smiled involuntarily, rolling her eyes.

“What?”

“Do you sense the theme color?"

“It's practical. Elegant. Matches everything.”

“Not at all. The hardest part is to match the shades of black to make them look good together. Anyway, thank you... for everything.”

"No problem," a shadow of a smile appeared on his face.

After these words she disappeared behind the door. She spent more time there than she had expected. She turned the tap in every possible direction, but couldn't find that perfect spot between boiling and ice water. Never. She finally let go, choosing the Ice Age instead of hell. As much time she spent trying to fit the pants, but no matter how many times she rolled up legs and how tightly she tightened the string around the waist and it fell anyway. In the end she decided to give it up. The T-shirt reached lower than half her thighs anyway. He tiptoed past the closed bedroom door, not wanting to wake him up again, but Kylo left the kitchen sipping tea from a red cup.

He had no shirt, she had no pants. A classic meet-cute. At that thought, his lips twisted in a smirk.

“What?”

“Nice dress.”

"The pants were too big," she handed them back to him, cubed again.

He went to put them in the dresser. When he returned to the living room, she was halfway to lay down.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm going to sleep? I thought I could stay... ” She jumped out. A delicate blush covered her cheeks.

“Yes. But the sofa is for me.”

“No, no, no. It’s fine. Really. In addition, the sofa is too small for you.”

“You clearly didn't understand. You are my guest and you go to sleep in the bedroom,” for the first time she heard something imperious in his voice. Not accepting the objection. She wondered if he was like that in the lecture hall.

“But-“

“Go to bed.”

Closing the bedroom door, she heard the creak of the sofa and a low growl.

“Of course she'll talkback.”

The room had dark, navy blue walls. A high ceiling and parquet floor, so characteristic of old tenements. To the left of the large desk, the wall had a narrow niche that she couldn't see from her apartment. Unlike the living room, the bedroom was... heterogeneous. There was a wooden chair at the desk, it looked like one of those hard and uncomfortable, in the style of chairs for a dance in the fifties. The other, from a different set, stood against the opposite wall, cluttered with papers. There was an open, but turned off laptop on the desk. Next to it were books and several empty mugs. She wanted to look through the pages, volumes, items on the shelf, but she felt as if it was an open invasion of his privacy. She tame her curiosity, taking steps toward the massive bed. The mattress was soft and the bedding was stiff. She remembered when she was a child and her mother brought bedclothes from mangle. No matter how peculiar and how long they asked. Everyone was required to take a bath before sleeping.

Although he took his bedding to the living room, leaving her fresh, bed, room, shirt, _everything_ smelled of him. She couldn't say what she was scenting. Maybe some cosmetics, shower gel? Perfume? Mixed with the smell of his body. Something fresh. Maybe the forest. She turned from side to side, absorbing smells, feelings and thoughts when she heard a soft knock.

“Are you sleeping?” He whispered.

"No," she answered as inaudibly. She didn't know why she was whispering.

“Good. I mean not good. I mean it stopped raining and I wanted to go out and smoke and I didn't want to wake you up. I mean-“

“Just go to the balcony.”

He opened the door wider, letting in the hall light. In his right hand he held an ashtray, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. In his hand they looked disproportionately small. Then Rey was struck by first sexual thought about him. As if she saw him for the first time. It was strange... unknown. And quite funny that after all these times, when he exercised with her without a shirt, just large hands released such thoughts in her. She chased them away quickly, focusing on reality. As usual, he leaned against the railing.

“Did I tell you, that you smoke a lot?”

"Every time you see me with a cigarette," he smiled, though she couldn't see it. He was directed to an empty living room. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“First night at the camp, in a strange bed, you know how it is.”

"Yes, I know," there was a resentment in his voice. As if he slept in a strange bed more often than he wanted. “I went to boarding school. That bed has never been mine. Moreover, they were so fucking small.”

“Maybe you're too big.”

He turned to her. His face grimaced, and a shudder ran through his body as his back met the still wet, cold balustrade. His skin was covered with goose bumps, but he remained in that position.

“Maybe.”

“It's the biggest bed I've ever slept in.”

"You're not sleeping," she rolled her eyes. “It's not that big. I often wake up with my hands dangling on both sides.”

“No way.”

He ran over not even half-smoked cigarette on the bottom of ashtray. He closed the balcony, still facing her. He walked across the room unhurriedly, until he stood in front of the bed. He put his knee on the edge of it. Not even for a moment did he break eye contact.

“May I?” He asked softly.

“It's your bed.”

“Not tonight.”

He still didn't make a move, so she nodded. He shifted his weight to his arms, lying down on his stomach. She pulled her knees under her chin, but he wasn't about to cross half the bed, staying at the bottom. He spread his hands, fingers reaching beyond its ambit.

“You have incredibly big arms.”

“I was told that.”

“And hands.”

"That too," he rolled over.

"Is that so?"

“I'm a teacher. All I need is a chalk or a book of poetry and the whole room looks at my palms.”

She relaxed, stretching her legs. She looked at the ceiling, instead of him.

“Songs are like poetry.”

“Nobody looks at it that way. At least no one I know. And these are poems, only with music,” he also turned to his back. The back of his knees touched the edge of the furniture.

“Maybe because nobody writes like that anymore. As if pouring all their heart and joy and pain into it. Everything.”

“I think people spoke through them. You know the way you talk, when you can't speak about your feelings.”

“Exactly. Most of my life I couldn’t name what I felt, and when I was able to, words would stick in my throat. It seemed too...” She stopped seeking for the right word.

“Private?” He prompted.

“Quite so. When I wanted to say something to someone, I played the right song, hoping they would pay attention, they would understand.”

“Is that why you listen to old songs?”

“They better reflect what I want to deliver.”

They remained in comfortable silence, each immersed in their thoughts.

“Did you mean that?” After a moment of silence she whispered. “Songs you mentioned?”

“Every word.”

His voice was now a low murmur, as if he were on the verge of sleep. His eyes were closed. She shifted more to make room for him. It seemed to wake him from a trance. But instead of laying out more comfortably, he stood up in one smooth movement. She watched as he approached the glow of light from the corridor.

"Kylo..." He stopped, holding the door with his hand. He looked at her for a moment that seemed like eternity. She hated herself for what it sounded like. Long, desperate. Needy.

She didn't know what she wanted to say. As if she wanted to keep him at least a second longer. As if she wanted to say, ‘stay, it's your bed’.

"Not tonight," he smiled slightly painfully, then closed the door.

🍷🍷🍷

Rey couldn't sleep. It seemed to be an attribute of this summer. She got up shortly after the first rays of the sun. On the far side, the moon was still hanging in the sky. This time, however, she was grateful for that. She knew that at this hour she could slip unnoticed. She stood at the door listening, but didn’t hear the slightest murmur. She took yesterday's things from the radiator, dressing up as fast and quiet as she could. She made the bed carelessly, then left the room on her toes. She clutched her shoes to her chest, praying that there wouldn’t be a treacherous plank in the floor. She reached out for the door.

“Where are you going?” She heard an amused voice behind her.

She turned, scared. He was standing in front of the kitchen, fully dressed and awake. She wondered what time he actually got up. When they were running, he always waited for her outside the block.

"Breakfast is waiting," he added, returning to the small kitchen.

She followed him, embarrassed. Not because she wanted to leave, but because she was caught.

“Well, maybe I lied, but then you certainly wouldn't stay. Omelette?”

“You know me.”

He chose a song on the phone. He started bustling, crooning under his breath. There was something idyllic about it. He put the pan on the stove, then turned to the fridge. At the chorus he began to sing louder.

“Ooh, she's a little runaway.”

"Very funny," she said, snatching his phone to change the tune.

Bon Jovi didn't play again that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Runaway lyrics:
> 
> On the street where you live girls talk about their social lives  
> They're made of lipstick, plastic and paint, a touch of sable in their eyes  
> (All your life) all your life all you've asked when's your daddy gonna talk to you  
> You were living in another world tryin' to get your message through.
> 
> No one heard a single word you said.  
> They should have seen it in your eyes  
> What was going around your head.
> 
> Ooh, she's a little runaway.  
> Daddy's girl learned fast  
> All those things he couldn't say.  
> Ooh, she's a little runaway.
> 
> A different line every night guaranteed to blow your mind  
> See you out on the streets, call for a wild time  
> So you sit home alone cause there's nothing left that you can do  
> There's only pictures hung in the shadows left there to look at you
> 
> You know she likes the lights at nights on the neon Broadway signs  
> She don't really mind, it's only love she hoped to find


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading, go listen to:  
> Don McLean - "American Pie" (www.youtube.com/watch?v=7yHTpGog0IY)
> 
> You don't have to listen to whole song, but just chorus, because it's not about lyrics this time, but vibe it gives.

She thought the housing community couldn’t surprise her anymore. Almost two months have passed since she moved into the building and all possible disasters that her co-inhabitants could provide, intentionally or not, have happened. Apparently, she underestimated their novelty and elan. When she came back from the shift late in the afternoon, another sensation greeted her from the door. One of the kids painted a huge question mark on the entrance with a blood-red spray. The paint was still dripping down, distorting it. She wanted to know what the author meant. She truly had enough of these four corners.

🍷🍷🍷 

She was laying on the carpet, looking blankly at the ceiling, but not really seeing it. She didn't cry, but she could feel the tears rising in the corners of her eyes. He knew something was wrong. She laid there for a long time, not moving a millimeter. He saw her turn on the vinyl. This wasn’t normal. No dance. Even when she was about to sit with the book in her hand, she always dances away the first few steps from the device. He couldn't even scream, she wouldn't hear him through the closed balcony. He turned the board over to sketch a short ‘Are you alright?’, even though he realized the gesture was pointless. As predicted, she didn’t change position. She couldn't see the message. He began to walk around nervously. Finally he grabbed a leather jacket and keys. He ran up two steps at a time. Standing at the door, he could barely hear ‘Riders on the Storm’

🍷🍷🍷 

She was surprised to hear a knock. Finn or Poe would have called earlier. They were too lazy to come just to find an empty apartment. Despite everything, she remained in place. But the knocking didn’t stop. What's more, it was getting more and more persistent. Reluctantly she got up. Annoyed, she opened the door. The man's hand hung halfway. She looked at him stunned. She expected everyone, but not him.

“I saw you through the window. What's happening?” He asked nervously.

Instinctively she turned her head. She saw the message on the board and felt guilty.

“No, it's nothing. It's all right. It's just the mood I get in sometimes.”

He didn't look convinced. In fact, it looked more like ‘I know what depression is, I read the books. She invited him inside to sit on the couch.

“I think too much. I lay down and devote a lot of attention to each of these thoughts. I think about life before I was born. About how it is now. About people around me. And I focus on this. For me, thinking is an activity in itself. Something like breathing while eating. Food is paramount. You don't normally think about breathing. Nobody thinks about thinking. I’m not thinking, because I'm lying, I'm lying, because I'm thinking. And when I devote as much time as I need to each of these thoughts, until I can't think of anything more about it. And then this thought leaves me. I call it inverted meditation.”

She felt as if she was just giving some twisted, grotesque lecture. She could never put her feelings into words. But there was no song, which could describe how she felt now. She had the impression that she was only plunging herself more.

“Okay, set up the disc and lie down,” saying this, he put himself on the patterned carpet.

“What are you doing?”

“You said you are in mood to think about things. I've never had it before. I feel guilty now. In fact, I'm sad. I think my thoughts are neglected.”

She smiled. She didn't expect that. At home, they thought something was wrong with her, they looked at her in the same way Kylo looked when he came. As if she had some depressive episodes. Finn and Poe were very understanding, and just left her alone, not wanting to take her space. Not really knowing what to do with it, how to behave. And now he was lying here and patiently waiting for him to choose the song. She changed the album and lay down side by side, staring at the ceiling again. She felt him watching her, then turned his gaze upwards. He heard Don McLean's gentle voice.

"’American Pie’?"

"I won't get up to change the song every three minutes," she smiled weakly.

"I just expected it to be something more... depressing."

“More? Did you listen to the lyrics? This song is sad as hell. It's like a song about a lost life. Because of the melody it is bittersweet and probably even worse.”

He was laying, but he couldn't recall any thoughts. It couldn't be that hard after all. Men cannot not think. They even think about not thinking. Still, the smallest full-fledged thought did not appear in his mind.

“So what are you thinking about?”

Yeah, exactly, what was she thinking about? She focused on him. Warm of his shoulder next to her own. She thought of home again. That she couldn't experience something like that, no one ever has laid down next to her. They didn't understand. She hesitated.

“I have thirteen siblings.”

“Wow.”

“Yes, wow,” she was silent for a moment. As if trying to sort out her thoughts. “I used to be all alone. Until Maz took me in. There were always five of us at home, but as soon as one grew up, moved out and began to support themself, she took in another child who needed help. She loves us more than anything in this world. In the morning we always had a warm breakfast and sandwiches for school. If only she had the means, she would take in all the children of the world. Chewie, dad, was her only voice of reason... I wish I could love someone someday, just the way dad loved mom.

There was silence again.

“I'm an only child. And although it was just me, I never felt that my parents loved me half as much as Maz loves you. He himself was surprised that the words left his lips. Now he might as well continue. Confession for confession. “I mean, don't get me wrong. They really loved me and I loved them too. My childhood was wonderful. Mom walked around the house dancing and sang while cleaning. Just like you. But when I got older she returned to work. And they just never were there, you know? They worked all the time. And I had something in me. You can say that I was a kid with problems. I needed more attention than other children. So I felt even more lonely. Somewhere in the teenage period this resulted in a strong rebellion. But it’s better now.

He paused.

“What happened with you? Before you met Maz? Don't answer if you don't want to,” he whispered.

She was silent. Constantly. Again and again. He wanted to say something. Take back these words.

“I lived in a junkyard. It was a bit cold, but at least it wasn't wet when it rained. There was a restaurant behind the blocks. They always threw full bags. It sounds so bad now, but it wasn't. Plutt, the owner, although after years I think that the phrase scum is more suitable for him, he taught me everything he knew about cars. I knew nothing else. I did not expect it to be different. I never met my parents. I'm just surprised that the system didn't catch me. Like I never existed.”

At the last sentence her voice broke, but he could feel the mood change without it. Now she was really overthinking. He turned his head and saw a single tear running down her cheek. She didn't hold it or try to wipe it off. As the thoughts. She was aware of their presence and let them go, moving on to the next ones. It was part of the process.

He rose to his feet. The song ended a long time ago, although none of them noticed. He withdrew the needle to the beginning of the song.

“Get up.”

“What?” She was leaning on her elbows now.

“Get up. Even if it's sad, this song is way too long and too lively to be sulking.”

He bent, reaching out to her. He lifted her up without much effort. He put his hand on small of her back, the other grabbing her hand. She put hers on his shoulder. He started slowly, uncertainly, but she gave in to his lead. Immediately, however, the song accelerated, so he did it, rotating her. In the second the chorus began, they both gave in to the music. He pressed her slightly closer, making circles faster and faster. Her laughter rang in his ears. They moved away, dancing side by side, but still in harmony. A tangle of arms, twitching legs and twisting hips. Living in full form. He grabbed her again, pulling her close. Now they were swaying slowly, along with the slowing melody. Her face was beaming.

“That's better.”

She was smiling from ear to ear. She always showed all her teeth. It was downright contagious. She made him feel like a teenager. He thought of the story he had just heard. Even if she didn't think so, she went through so much. She didn't deserve it. And she could still smile full face. She was extraordinary. Unearthly.

“Go out with me.”

“What?” She raised her head to look at him. She was still laughing.

"Go out with me," he repeated. He was quite serious, though relaxed. He kept his eyes on hers.

"Okay," she looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He smiled broadly.

“Play something more joyful.“

The apartment on the fourth floor was filled with the sounds of music, dance and laughter for a long time.


End file.
